


Wedding Cake

by maxbegone



Series: Schitt's Creek ficlets [8]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Cake, Cake Mishaps, Fluff, Happy Anniversary David and Patrick, Husbands, It's september 3rd!, Kissing, Missing Scene, Post-Canon, Wedding Day, Wedding Fluff, episode coda, wedding cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxbegone/pseuds/maxbegone
Summary: “There’s just--There’s just one little thing, though.” Patrick’s eyes dart toward the back of the room then back to David. “It has to do with the cake.”“It has to do with the cake...” David takes a cleansing breath, giving the lapels a gentle tug. “Patrick, this day has already been one for the books and, let’s be honest, it was always going to be. Unless the cake toppled off its stand or is infested by bugs, there’s nothing about it that will upset me.”Patrick's smile grows wary. “Okay, good. I’d like to show you anyway.”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Schitt's Creek ficlets [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684510
Comments: 17
Kudos: 113





	Wedding Cake

**Author's Note:**

> It's September 3rd!

David’s standing off to the side, the room sparkling and alight with the after-rain sun that’s flooding through the windows. He has his smile buried in his champagne flute, and Patrick -- _his husband! --_ left his side just a few moments ago, swept away by Alexis, arm-in-arm. 

But he’s okay. A few minutes away from Patrick still gives him a lifetime with him, even though David is itching to be holding him right now. The issue is he just has no idea where his sister dragged him off to. 

With all today’s faults and missteps -- the rain, the dress Alexis is wearing, the masseuse -- their wedding was absolutely _perfect._ Not what David had dreamed of, not what anyone had dreamed of, but it was perfect nonetheless. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house; his mother openly weeped as she officiated in her Botticelli-inspired garb, dressed in whites and golds and wearing the absolute longest wig David’s seen to-date. 

His husband sang and David needed to hold it together, in many ways, so he didn’t jump and kiss Patrick earlier than cued. It was beautiful.

_Speaking of--_

His searching gaze lands on Patrick weaving through the crowd back over and smiling. David sets his flute aside, grabs his face in both hands and kisses his husband, Patrick’s arms coming up to wrap around David’s back. 

He pulls back just slightly. “Hi, husband.” 

“Hi, husband,” Patrick smiles, his eyes soft. 

“Are you leaving my side any more tonight? Because I’d like a warning before you do that again.” David nuzzles himself into Patrick’s neck and breathes deep. “I quite like knowing where you are.”

A laugh bubbles out of Patrick, “I’m not leaving your side ever. You’re stuck with me, David.” 

He brings his head up then, a dopey grin on his lips. “Good,” he says, and drags gentle fingers along the lapels of Patrick’s suit jacket.

“There’s just--There’s just _one_ little thing, though.” Patrick’s eyes dart toward the back of the room then back to David. “It has to do with the cake.”

“It has to do with the cake...” David takes a cleansing breath, giving the lapels a gentle tug. “Patrick, this day has already been one for the books and, let’s be honest, it was always going to be. Unless the cake toppled off its stand or is infested by bugs, there’s nothing about it that will upset me.”

Patrick's smile grows wary. “Okay, good. I’d like to show you anyway.” 

“Is it the wrong cake entirely?” David asks, “Because I’ll still eat it, everyone will, you know that.” 

“Just--” Patrick takes his hand. “Come with me.”

**

“I don’t get it. What’s wrong with it?”

David stands a few feet away from the table, one fist on his hip and his other hand resting on Patrick’s shoulder. Alexis is hovering beside it, a her mouth in a wince. 

The cake looks completely normal. It’s up to par with what they’d decided; sparsely-frosted stylistically, with berries ringing each of its three short tiers and two white roses placed delicately.

“It’s really nothing,” she says, her hands flexed out. “It’s completely fixable.” 

David rears his head back. “Fixable?” He repeats. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Yeah, David, look,” Patrick turns to him fully, “It’s really not the end of the world.”

David circles the table, eyeing the cake meticulously, his eyes catching his husband’s or his sister’s every few seconds. “Okay, no one ate from the back of it, like I expected Roland to, so it looks fine to me,” he huffs, gesturing to it. “It looks like exactly what we ordered; is it vanilla?”

“Yes,” Alexis and Patrick nod.

“It’s a naked cake, it looks like it has raspberry and whipped cream filling.” 

“Yes.” 

David turns back to them, shoulders hunched. “There’s no tacky cake topper and it doesn’t look like it stepped out of the eighties, so what’s wrong with it?”

Patrick exchanges a glance with Alexis before stepping up to rest his hands on David’s waist. “Maybe...just look at the _top_ of the cake.” 

David squints at his husband curiously. He cranes his neck to look and--

_Happy Day Davis and Peter_

It’s written in bright red letters. 

He spins back to them, mouth agape. “Wha--how?”

“We can take a butter knife to it and scrape it off,” Patrick begins quickly. “And Twyla, I’m sure, has frosting somewhere. We can spread that over top, it’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah!” Alexis turns to leave, “I’ll go ask her right now!” 

“We just wanted to show you first that way you didn’t come over here and see a big red smudge when we cut the cake later,” Patrick concludes. He takes a breath, his teeth bared into his bottom lip. “It’s fine.”

There’s a beat before David just starts laughing. And then Alexis joins in, too, awkwardly giggling like she does when she’s confused or uncomfortable. 

“You guys really thought I’d be mad?” David presses a hand to his chest. “Really?”

Patrick stammers a bit, “W-we just thought, you know since today hasn’t exactly gone to plan, that a snag with the cake would--”

“--Set you off,” Alexis finishes with a curt nod. “Dad called the bakery apparently and,” she waves a hand to it, “he got a little bit sentimental. You know how he is.” 

“Patrick...” David calms himself. “Today has been a little bit nuts, but it’s been _perfect.”_ He brings his hands up to rub his shoulders. “No more worrying, okay? Because it’s still a cake and it’s _just_ a fucking cake.”

“Uh, it’s never ‘just a cake’ to you, David,” Alexis states.

“Of course it’s never ‘just a cake,’ Alexis. A cake is always important. But,” David looks at Patrick again, his head angled to the side, “it’s still just a cake. It’s barely a snag, if we can call it that.” 

Patrick’s smile returns then, a bright one. “It’s okay?”

“Absolutely. If you told me there was no cake on site, including the cupcakes we ordered, then I’d be a little more tightly-wound, but this is literally nothing.” 

David steps back from Patrick to eye the cake again. The red letters stare back up at him, stark and imposing. He glances back at them over his shoulder. “Isn’t there a whole thing about smudging your name on your cake, anyway?”

“I think that’s for birthday cakes, David,” Alexis says, “And those names aren’t even your names.”

“Close enough,” David shrugs. He takes a long finger and swipes it over _Davis_ until it becomes an unreadable splotch of red. He smiles at Patrick and licks the icing off his finger. “There. Problem solved,” he says, and nods toward it. “Your turn, honey.” 

Patrick reaches a hand up and with his thumb erases _Peter,_ chuckling as he eyes his now-stained finger and follows his husband’s lead to lick it. 

“Isn’t that a bit gross?” Alexis asks, hovering at David’s shoulder. “Like, all these people have to eat it.” 

“It’s fine, we’ll take the rest off with a knife or something,” David replies, searching the table until he sees a plastic spoon. He plucks it from where it sits on a tray. 

With as much delicacy as he can muster, David scoops the red icing off, careful not to knick the cake itself. A few moments later, the cake has some dabs of pink mixed into the white, but it looks good, almost strategic. 

“Okay, can we just cut the cake already?” David asks excitedly, his stomach rumbling lowly.

Patrick laughs, “David, we haven’t even eaten dinner yet!”

“But it’s our wedding day,” he bounces, “Why can’t we have cake first?”

“Because it’ll be way too sweet to have now.” 

“Fine.” David sighs, and pops the spoon he was using to remove the icing in his mouth. “This will have to tide me over.” 

Patrick presses a kiss to his cheek. “There you go,” he says, and then moves to David’s lips. “Very sweet.” 

David quirks his lips off to the side in a smile. “You’re not allowed to shove any cake in my face later,” he says pointedly, and Patrick just smiles in that teasing way he does.

“We’ll just have to wait and see, honey. Come on.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Day, Davis and Peter! Come cry with me over their lovely wedding [@maxbegone](maxbegone.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
